The Therapist on Cmelak Street
by ChristinaFay
Summary: A 3-part short romantic comedy involving a unique address, a young witch who was adamant that she was in dire need for therapy, and a potions master who firmly believed he had no reason whatsoever to be involved in such nonsense.
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary:**_

 _"You have got to be kidding me!" Her jaw dropped as she stared at the wizard in black sitting behind the desk._

 _"Miss Granger," he hissed, his dark eyes piercing down at her. "What the hell are you doing here?"_

A 3-part short romantic comedy involving a unique address, a young witch who was adamant that she was in dire need for therapy, and a potions master who firmly believed he had no reason whatsoever to be involved in such nonsense.

 _ **A/N:**_ The following story has not been beta'ed. I will update with a revision of this chapter as soon as I hear back from my wonderful beta. In the meantime, please be gentle and PM me if you see anything glaringly wrong... Many thanks!

 _ **Disclaimer**_ : All belongs to her, not me.

* * *

 **The Therapist on Cmelak Street**

 **Part I**

"You really should take better care of yourself, girl. You are a walking disaster." Ginny carried a plate full of homemade madeleine into the drawing room. "That sweater really doesn't fit you. It makes you look ten years older!" The red-haired witch set the plate down on the coffee table, next to a pot of freshly brewed tea. "And what have you done to your hair? It's looking quite scraggly. Are you not using any charms anymore? I think it looks even worse than that day when you came back to Hogwarts right before the final battle. At least you had it up in a ponytail then."

"You're supposed to make me feel better." Hermione sighed, reaching forward and brought the entire tray of biscuits into her lap.

"That's what the madeleines are for," Ginny shrugged with her back facing her late afternoon guest, her full attention focused on the small black-haired baby chewing on a stuffed grizzly bear in the playpen. "Freshly baked, just the way you like it. Sorry if I hurt your feelings, but if you can't hear it from a girlfriend, where else would you get an honest opinion?"

"I can't care less about other people's opinions about my appearance these days." Hermione frowned at the pile of buttery treats in the tray. "All day long all I hear is 'she yelled at me', 'she's not fair', 'she didn't help me', or 'ask her, she did it'. I don't give a damn about my stupid hair, alright? I'm tired of being criticized all day long. I'm tired of taking responsibility for everything and everyone, including myself."

"Geez, a bit touchy this afternoon, aren't we?" Ginny mumbled quietly as she picked up her little boy and settled down in a rocking chair with a bottle of milk.

"I'm so sorry Ginny," Hermione sighed again as she reached for the biggest biscuit on the plate. "I know I'm bitchy... can't help it. I didn't mean to come to your house in the middle of a beautiful Saturday and burden you with such nasty attitude."

"Don't mention it Hermione." Ginny shook her head slightly, "That's what friends are for. I'm only glad that you are still showing up for our monthly tea time. Harry told me you're super busy these days at your office and have turned into a hermit after work. He hasn't seen you since you came by last month. Oh he's sorry he has to miss you today, by the way. Ron's team is advancing to the regional tournament and today is their first playoff game. You know how Ron is, he thinks having Harry there at the stand would help him play better."

"No worries. Harry would have said I look like a disaster as well anyway. I really don't need to hear that twice. Honestly, I just want to hear something sweet and fluffy." Hermione gave a faint smile to the golden brown biscuit in her hand.

"You need a boyfriend for that." Ginny chuckled. "When you have a dark and handsome man whispering all the sweet nothings in your ears, all your troubles will disappear."

"Too bad dark and handsome men do not exist." Hermione said with a month full of madeleine. "Or at least I've managed to scare all of them away."

"Too bad you and Ron couldn't make it," Ginny looked up at her girlfriend across the room, "I would much prefer seeing him with you than with Lavender."

"He did the right thing." Hermione dunk another biscuit in her tea and nodded thoughtfully. "He was clever to break it off when we first realized our friendship was not made for romance. I'm actually glad we called it off before I got so... well, bitchy is actually the kindest word you would choose if you were working in our department. You wouldn't believe the names that everyone in my office is calling me behind my back. Anyway, at least I can still call Ron a good friend and be civil with him around Christmas dinner table, not like those other ex-boyfriends that I got rid of. Do you know that they all run and hide from me nowadays? I tell ya, even Voldemort would have agreed that I should be called 'she-who-must-not-be-named' if he knew how nasty I can be."

"Listen to you." Ginny shook her head disapprovingly. "You make yourself sound like a monster. Those guys you dated simply weren't right for you. That's all. You just need to keep looking."

"Keep looking?" Hermione laughed bitterly. "Where? I don't think so. I don't have the time and I don't have the energy. My every minute at work is like a fire drill. There is always an emergency somewhere waiting for me in the office. Or at least they save all of them for me exclusively. And by the time I come up for air from work and look around me, all I see are married men with wives and children at home. That's the only men I see these days - men who had to work their tails off with a bitchy witch only because they are obligated to bring home the bacon."

"It must be the work then." Ginny suggested. "Are you working too much? Maybe taking a holiday or changing department would help?"

"Nah," Hermione made short work on the last piece of biscuit. "It's not work. Working is good for me. I'm at least feeling alive when I'm at work dealing with all the emergencies. It's not working that is problematic." She sighed at the empty plate on her lap. "I don't have any interest or energy for anything else. I'd much rather lay in bed all day on weekends. If you didn't threaten me with leaving James in my care every weekend, I confess, I wouldn't have been able to keep up with our monthly tea time. I sleep through most of my nonworking hours."

"I was always tired when I was first pregnant with James." Ginny arched her brows.

"Oh please..." Hermione snorted, "If you paid any attention to what I just said, you'd know that I have successfully scared half of the men in Britain away. And the other half happens to be either happily taken or not remotely interested in procreation. In case you're wondering, I just went to my annual checkup a few weeks ago and no, I'm not pregnant, nor am I sick... not physically at least." She added in a low voice.

"Hmmm," Ginny studied her friend with great sympathy. "I think Harry might be right then."

"What?" Hermione looked up at her friend in surprise. "What is he saying behind my back?"

"Oh Hermione," Ginny frowned, "when did you become so paranoid? Please don't be upset with him. He only worries about you. He thinks... he thinks you may have... erm... depression."

There was a brief silence in the room. Ginny stared at her friend with great concern, not sure how Hermione would react to such a suggestion.

To Ginny's great surprise, Hermione broke into a small laugh. "Well that's a relief." When she finally stopped laughing, she sighed. "I was worried that he suspected I was cursed or something. But the truth is, Ginny, he's not the only one who's telling me that. My own mother had just slip a business card of a muggle psychiatrist in my birthday card not too long ago. At first I thought she was trying to fix me up with someone she knew. But when I found out that the doctor is seventy-years-old I finally realized my mum's true intention." The young witch shook her head and let out a sigh.

"Don't you want professional help?" Ginny pulled the empty bottle out of the baby's grasp, ignoring a small protest coming from the boy. "Mum said the healers can do great wonders. She's speaking from personal experience, you know, after Fred..." the small whimpering coming from her son quickly becoming louder and louder.

"Oh don't get me wrong." Hermione sensed the direction of the conversation and stopped her friend in mid-sentence. "I DO trust the professionals' abilities. And I'm beginning to think that may be the only way to fix my problems. But... It's just that I can't go to a muggle therapist. They like to talk about your personal history and experience, you know. My life is a strange tale since age eleven. How am I going to explain to them what I've been through in the past fifteen years? They would have easily determined that I've lost my mind before they would even attempt to fix it."

"You should really go see this therapist that my mum went to see then." Ginny tried to calm the baby down by patting his back slowly. "He's the only one not associated with St. Mongo's here in London. My mum has nothing but high praises to say about this wizard. She said he is a great listener and has great skills of his trade, and even made her sleep better by sending potions home with her."

"Like a wizard psychiatrist then, huh?" The newly acquired information perked Hermione's interest lightly. "I would be interested except that... well, I don't know. I know it's been almost six years since the war, but people still like a good gossip if they can get their hands on it. Can you imagine reading about 'Hermione Granger's Devastating Depression' on the Daily Prophet? I don't need their pity. And I don't need that kind of attention."

"You don't have to worry about that!" Ginny got up from the rocking chair, rocking the crying baby in her arms; although the movement had no effect on her wailing son. "This therapist apparently is very discreet. He went as far as to putting the Taboo curse on his name. Unless you are his patient, you won't have the slightest idea as to who he is, and certainly cannot share what you hear from him to others. I can ask mum to contact him and request an appointment for you. It may take a while you know. He could be quite busy... Oh would you please stop crying James?"

Hermione took a deep breath trying to control her composure as the baby's cry quickly triggered a headache pounding behind her eyes. Their visits almost always ended in this fashion since James was born. The boy would always cry at a certain hour, marking the time when the Potters bid their farewell hastily with their guests.

"Well sure," Hermione put down the empty tray that was full of biscuits only a while ago. "That won't hurt, I suppose."

"Oh before I forget," Ginny was almost yelling now since the baby was now bawling in her arms, "All of his patients have to use alias. He doesn't want to be the only one responsible for protecting your privacy. What do you want to be called?"

With her bag in her hand Hermione had already started making her way towards the door. "Madeleine sounds good." She eyed the few golden crumbs left on the plate. "Petite can be the last name."

As the wild-haired witch ran for the front door she heard Ginny's voice above James' howl, "Madeleine Petite it is then. I'll ask mum to get you an appointment!"

* * *

"This is just fantastic. My first appointment with the miracle worker and I am going to be late!" Hermione huffed with great annoyance as she ran down the Ministry Atrium, her hands fumbling her handbag looking for the small piece of parchment that Molly had sent her with an owl just the day before.

It's been a few months since Ginny made the suggestion that Hermione should pay a visit to Molly's old therapist. Apparently the therapist was in high demand and had a long waiting list for new clients; and once he had an opening he gave no considerations as far as whether the meeting time was acceptable to his new client. When Molly finally informed Hermione that she was able to get her an appointment with the healer, Hermione had no choice but to agree to a series of monthly visits on Monday afternoons from two to three o'clock.

Mondays were never Hermione's favorite day of the week. It not only was the first day of the week that she had to crawl out of her refuge in bed, but also the day when she had to report to her boss with her team's progress. Her team was tasked with the responsibility to report on all incidents involving mishaps caused by magical creatures across the country. Her weekly report could never please her supervisor, because her team was never ready to meet with her until the last minute. Hermione spent almost every Monday morning rushing to redo her team's work from the previous week so that she could have something to turn in at the meeting with her boss at one o'clock.

This particular Monday was not any different. By the time Hermione had a report that was semi-acceptable, it was already half past twelve. She only had time to shove half of a sandwich down her throat before she had to run to see her supervisor. And just as she had expected, the mid-level supervisor quickly produced a long list of critiques. If this was any other Mondays, Hermione would have spent the rest of the day responding to those comments. But today she would have to postpone that task until later that night, because she knew if she didn't go see this therapist, Molly would make sure that she would never hear the end of it.

"This therapist has better be good. At least good enough to worth the trouble." She growled as she spread up the wrinkled paper and saw Molly's handwriting. Molly had been working part-time at a local branch of the Gringotts Bank since all of her children were now grown and had left the house. Working at the bank got Molly into writing everything in capital letters - it was the standard style of writing at the bank. For Hermione however, reading things spelled out in caps was practically like hearing the words screaming at her. "175 C MELAK STREET!" She screamed back into the fireplace and stormed through the green flames without another thought.

* * *

The room on the other side of the floo was dim and cool, quite the opposite of the busy Ministry foyer. The silence quickly drowned out the noise in Hermione's head. She took a deep breath and was surprised to find herself in a large office instead of a waiting room. It was clear that she wouldn't need to waste her time chit chatting with a receptionist.

"The man has some respect for his client's privacy." She voiced her approval inwardly.

There was a familiar scent in the room, reminded her of some kind of potion ingredient that she had once worked with. There was something else that felt familiar, Hermione frowned. It was a feeling of her was being watched and... criticized. As she looked up ahead, her eyes were quickly drawn to a silhouette of a man sitting behind a desk by the far window. He looked familiar, she thought to herself; her frown deepened.

"I'm your 2 o'clock, sir. Sorry I'm late." She slowly began to make her way towards the man, not sure why she should feel so nervous.

Her eyes widened as a familiar face appeared before her as she walked into the light by the window.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Her jaw dropped as she stared at the man in black sitting behind the desk.

"Miss Granger," he hissed, his dark eyes piercing down at her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

It was Professor Snape!

Hermione's blood ran cold.

For a brief moment she forgot what she was doing there. She thought she had gone back in time, and was in his potions classroom again, guilty for something she had done. Not knowing what to say, she simply stood there and stared.

Like most people in the wizarding world, Hermione hadn't seen or heard about Severus Snape since the end of the war. It was widely reported that after spending a good three months at St. Mungo's recovering from the snake bite that almost took his life, the former spy had simply dropped off of the face of the planet. Even the most talented reporter with Daily Prophet couldn't track him down after he was released by the hospital. The folks who admired Snape's contribution to the war, such as Harry and Minerva, commented that the wizard deserved his privacy. Others, who were never convinced by his loyalty, were only disappointed that the man wasn't available for further scrutiny.

Hermione never had ill wishes towards the wizard; but she also had no intention to run into him ever again, let alone having him as her therapist.

"Well?" He arched one brow and drawled. "Answer my question."

The witch blinked a few times and slowly came to her senses. She was no longer a school girl facing her professor. She was an adult now. She had her right to seek help from a healer, if that's what he turned out to be. And if he could really live up to his reputation of curing people's problems, Hermione thought, he should treat her no differently from Molly Weasley.

"I apologize, Prof... uh, sir." She straightened up her back and found her voice. "I was trying to be on time. But my work... you see... argh, it's a long story. I'm sure you'll get to hear about all my problems later. But for starters..." she found a leather couch against the wall and deposited herself heavily into it. "Can I have a glass of water first? I ran straight to here from that butt-faced boss of mine."

A small sparkle flickered in Snape's dark eyes as he gave his wand a quick wave, sending a glass of water floating in front of Hermione.

The witch sat up and downed the water greedily. As she looked up, she found the same dark eyes narrowing upon her.

"Why are you looking at me like this?" She put the glass down on a small table by the couch and frowned. And then something suddenly occurred to her. "Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I forgot to even explain. Molly made the appointment for me. I told her to use that alias. I know, it's stupid, Madeleine Petite. If I keep eating Ginny's homemade madeleines I will never be able to live up to the name Petite, will I?" She sighed with a small chuckle. "But I have to say, that's a really good idea of yours. If you didn't request that your clients use alias, I wouldn't have been able to gather up the courage to come and see you."

He stayed quiet, but never changed his speculative glare at her.

"Well..." she hesitated for a brief moment, before lying back down in the couch, "I will probably feel better if you don't stare at me like this, you know." She took in another deep breath and closed her eyes. "Alright, fine. You keep staring. If that's what you have to do to cure my problems. I'm not going to look at you. This is how you usually help your clients, isn't it? It's a nice couch by the way. Wake me up if I drift off, will ya? I'm always sleepy these days. Not that I don't sleep. It's the quality of the sleep, you see. Well I'm sure you'll help me address that with a potion, won't you? I just want you to know right off the bet that I don't want any dreamless sleep. I've had too much of it a few years back. It's not good as a long-term remedy. Well what am I talking about, you must know all about that. You're the potions master, after all."

There was more silence.

"Oh I see," she sighed into the ceiling. "I must have messed up your treatment plan. Don't therapists always ask their patients to tell them about their personal history? This is working out rather well, isn't it? You know my history already, at least all the way through the end of the war, for the most part. I went back to Hogwarts to finish my NEWTs, in case if you didn't know that from reading the paper already. I don't understand why it was such a fuss about someone wanting to finish her exams. But apparently Rita Skeeter thought it was highly amusing. At any rate, after that I got an entry-level position at the Department of Care for Magical Creatures. It's been almost five years since I started working there and I'm still not very far from that entry-level. My boss and my boss' boss said I need more experience. I do have a small team of staff to supervise, but all of them have been with the department longer than me and none of them is willing to listen to me. When things go well my boss takes all the credit. When things go belly up it's entirely my fault. I'm not complaining, sir," she clarify hastily, "in case you got the wrong idea. I'm just tired I guess. I work too many hours. They always have excuses to ask me to work overtime. But then again I can't turn them down. I don't have an excuse to turn them down. I have no life outside of work. My mum is only willing to spend that many hours talking to me on the phone. And my dad would rather not talk to me at all. Well, that's for another session I suppose. So here I am, a perfect worker bee, with no family, no relationship, and not even a hobby. I used to like knitting. But a few ex-boyfriends ago I was convinced that knitting is an old lady's pastime. I wish I still have the desire to pick up the needles now. But I don't. To tell you the truth, even a good book may not perk my interest these days. My mum and Harry think I'm depressed. I don't know if that's the case. But what am I here to say anyway? You are the professional. You will tell me how depressed I am, right?"

"Miss Granger," his cool voice startled her slightly. She quickly turned her head to look at him. He was still looking at her intensely. However, there was something slightly warmer in those deep dark eyes. "I'm afraid you've been misinformed..." He began.

"Oh no no no." Hermione quickly sat up and stopped him from finishing his words. "I've heard about you. I don't know any exact cases, of course, due to the secrecy of your treatments. But I've heard enough to know that you helped many traumatized people get back on their feet. Molly was quite impressed by you, you know. I'm not traumatized, you see, but I think I'm probably seriously depressed. I don't think I can trust anyone with my problems. Not even Ginny and Harry know all about them. For example, they had no idea about all the pills that I've tried to be cheerful again. And they also don't know that I tried to pick up guys at the pub wearing glamour. Apparently sex alone doesn't do the trick, either. Be honest with you I had a lot of doubt before I came here today. But now," She took a deep breath, "Seeing you before me, I know I won't be able to find another soul in this word that can guard my secrets better. You are an honorable wizard and I trust you not having a blabber mouth. You are honestly my last hope. Listen, I'm really sorry that I'm late today. It won't happen again, promise! But please don't fire me. I don't want to lose my mind and become Lockhart's neighbor. And I'm sure that's where I'm going if you don't help me. So please? Would you at least give me another chance?"

He opened his mouth, but didn't seem to have an answer ready for her.

Just at that moment, there was a soft knock on the door. Both the wizard and the witch turned their attention to the other side of the room, watching an older witch in her sixties walking into the room with an armful of files.

"Oh, I'm sorry Severus," the witch apologized quickly as she noticed Hermione in the room. "I didn't know you're with someone. I thought you wanted to meet with me at three to go over the numbers from last month. But if you're busy I'll come back in a little while."

"No, I'm not busy." Snape called after the older witch and stopped her in her path.

"It's three already?" Hermione jumped up from the couch. "Oh right, he's not busy." She gave the older witch a small smile and turned her attention back to Snap. "I'm sorry. I'm leaving now. Thank you for listening to me. I haven't been able to talk to anyone like this for a long time."

"Leave." He said quietly.

"Of course, right away. But," Hermione stopped her footsteps in front of the wizard's desk. She hesitated briefly before leaning forward and asked in a hushed voice. "Aren't you at least going to give me something to help me sleep? I know it's going to take a while to get to the bottom of all of my problems. But I feel like I'm falling apart without some real sleep! Is there at least something you can give me?"

He tilted his head back and studied her with narrowed eyes. After a long moment he reached for his drawer with his pale long fingers and brought out a small vial of blue potion.

"Ooooh thank you!" She smiled brightly and took the vial from his hand. But a small frown quickly crawled up her brows. "It's not dreamless sleep, is it? I know it's not the same color, but..."

His lips curled up with distaste. "No, it is not." He cut her off. "Now leave!"

"Okay I'm going! I'm gone!" She quickly walked to the fireplace. "See you next month!" She waved at him from the green frames, not having a chance to hear his reply.

* * *

"How did it go?" Ginny's red head was bobbing through the green flames in Hermione's fireplace.

"Not what I had expected to say the least." Hermione smiled at her friend. "Too bad I'm not allowed to tell you more. But I got some potion from him for my sleep."

"Are you going back next month?"

"Of course!" Hermione shrugged. "Didn't you say I paid for the entire ten sessions already? Direct transfer from my Gringotts account at the time of registration, huh? Pretty smart with his business, isn't he? I should have known. The man really is clever."

"Well, glad things went well." Ginny sighed. "Harry's taking James to bed and I need to start the laundry. See you this Saturday?"

"Will there be madeleines?" Hermione blinked.

"Sure." Ginny chuckled.

"Then I'll be there." Hermione smiled as Ginny's face disappeared into the floo.

That night, Hermione thought she had the best sleep in years.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_ The following chapter has not been beta'ed. I take full responsibility for any boo-boos that you may find.

 _ **Disclaimer**_ : Still all hers, not mine.

* * *

 **The Therapist on Cmelak Street**

 **Part II**

Hermione was not the kind of witch who would make the same mistake twice.

A month after she met her newly acquired therapist in his office, she was determined to be on time for her second scheduled session. Her solution included spending the Sunday before the appointment visiting the homes of every staff member on her team.

"Hello! I am here to collect your notes from last week." She recited her scrip with a forced smile that didn't reach the corner of her eyes. "I couldn't find it at your desk so I trust that you have it with you somewhere? Oh don't look so surprised. I forgot to bring you an Easter basket a few months ago so I thought I would fix that error today. Your belated Easter bunny will do your Monday task for you. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!" None of her staff questioned their team leader's strange demand - they had seen worse when it came to perfecting their reports. All of them handed Hermione their notes form the field, except for one young father, who hadn't had time to jot down any notes. From him, Hermione collected a phial of silvery memories.

It wasn't an easy task to do five people's work all by herself, especially when one fifth of the material was raw memory and the rest of the notes were barely legible. But Hermione was determined. She somehow managed to call upon the persistence from her days at Hogwarts and stayed up the entire night finishing the report. By the time she showed up for her meeting with her supervisor, she had a four-foot-long roll of parchment summarizing all the events involving magical creatures in the country from the previous week.

"Bloody hell! What happened?" Her boss, a middle-aged man with little hair left on his head, stared at the report in disbelief. "Did I miss any urgent calls from the Auror's office? What caused the spike in incidents? The full-moon isn't for another week, and I thought the giants were quite pleased with their new territory in the northern mountains!"

"Oh no, Mr. Bottomly," Hermione blinked innocently at her supervisor, "there haven't been any urgent calls. In fact, we had a below-average week - only twelve incidents. But you see, I understand how the reports provided by my team have been subpar in the past, so I thought I would prepare a thorough report myself for a change. By the way, do you think our department has the funding to supply every member a multi-function quill that could ensure legible handwriting? Okay I get it... not a question for today." She shrugged as she watched her supervisor's face darkening with anger. "So... Would you like to give me a list of points to follow up?"

Mr. Bottomly groaned at the report before him. There was a reason for the department to recommend Granger's early promotion a couple of years ago. All the supervisors had thought the first day when Miss Granger was promoted to team leader was the last day they would have to read a report penned by her. "Team leaders are not supposed to write reports." He grumbled impatiently. "I'll have to read through it first, don't you think?"

"Certainly." Hermione nodded pleasantly. "Would you like me to sit here and wait as you read?" She stole a glance at the clock.

"No no no." The balding wizard waved his hand impatiently. "Get out of here and give me some quiet time. I'll get back to you later this afternoon."

Hermione smiled politely and excused herself from her supervisor's office - that was exactly what she had hoped for.

She stepped out of the fireplace in Snape's office at two o'clock sharp.

But the wizard was nowhere to be found.

"I hope he's not trying to get rid of me and offer this time slot to another patient." Hermione murmured to herself crossly, hoping her self-imposed overtime last night was not going to be wasted. She opened the office door and peeked out into the hallway, just in time to spot the same older woman whom she met in Snape's office the month before.

"Oh hello," the older woman was coming out from a small room, carrying a tea set. "May I help you, miss?"

"Uh yes," Hermione frowned, "I'm here to see..." Suddenly Hermione realized she hadn't asked for the proper way to address her therapist. She wasn't sure if she should call him Dr. Snape, Mr. Snape, or Healer Snape. And if he had put a taboo on his name, should she be calling him by some alias too?

"Are you here to see Severus?" the older woman smiled as she walked closer to Hermione. "Right! I remember you. Is he expecting you today?"

"I... I hope so." Hermione answered uncertainly.

"Well he is in the building somewhere, but must have just stepped away from his office." The woman nodded. "He does that sometimes. Not very good at keeping track of his time, is he? Well why don't you wait a bit in his office? I just brewed a fresh pot of tea. Would you like a cup?"

But even the most delicious Earl Grey could not keep the sleep-deprived witch awake for very long. Before long, Hermione gave in to the calling of the comfortable couch, and drifting off to a faraway land... until a large hand shook her by her shoulders.

"Hmmm...?" She yawned and stretched her arms.

"Insufferable!" A voice drawled.

Hermione was greeted by Snape's big nose as she opened her eyes. She lifted her head drowsily, and let out a yelp when her eyes met his deep dark ones. "Oh I'm so sorry! What happened? Did I fall asleep?"

"No. You ate a poison apple and were delivered here by seven unwilling goblins." The lips of the black-haired wizard curled up into a sneer.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and frowned, slowly processing the words that had just reached her ears. And then, a small giggle escaped her. The giggles quickly bubbled into a hearty laugh. "Oh sir," Hermione said between her chortles, "That was a good one. I can't believe I just heard a joke from the serious potions mater! No offense! I just didn't expect you to actually _have_ a sense of humor. I am beginning to think you are just as normal as everyone else."

"That's enough insult." He rolled his eyes and snarled. "Explain - who gave you the permission to be in my office and drool on my couch?"

"Your secretary, Mrs. Alexandrov, let me wait for you here. But I most certainly did not drool, sir." She batted her eye lashes innocently.

"She is not my secretary." Snape huffed as he walked around her and sat down behind his desk. "On the contrary, she's my employer."

"My parents used to call their office manager their boss, too." She nodded with a knowing smile. "How have you been, _Severus_?" Her smile widened when she didn't experience any trouble saying his name. "That's a relief." She sighed happily. "I didn't realize you are so casual these days. If not because I heard Mrs. Alexandrov addressing you by your given name, I really wasn't sure how to call you."

"I have no time for small talk." the wizard replied impatiently. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Oh I'm so sorry that I fell asleep." Hermione sat up at the edge of the couch and explained nervously. "I was too tired from working through the entire night. I did make it on time, sir, even though you did not. But that's okay, I think we can just call it even. Although I want you to know that I put in quite some effort to be here on time. Monday afternoons are not the most convenient schedule for me, to tell you the truth. But I must say it's all worth it. The potion that you gave me last month was fantastic. I was able to rest much better, and didn't feel any side effects..."

"Miss Granger," He cut her off suddenly, "You have made a rather big mistake."

"Oh no," the witch's eyes widened with fear - _he was trying to fire her!_ "On the contrary Severus, I think coming here to see you is the best decision I've made in a long time. For some reason, knowing I won't be judged for what I'll say in your office makes me feel so much better. What's in your potion by the way? I can't quite tell by the color and the scent."

"You expect me to just give you answers to whatever you ask?" He narrowed his eyes. "What is this? A Ministry interrogation?"

"Certainly not," she chuckled. "And I agree - it would have been too greedy to ask you for the recipe, wouldn't it? I completely understand that the potion is your proprietary product. I wouldn't expect you to just hand me your secrets. I guess it's just an old habit. I'm sure you haven't forgotten how I used to like asking question."

"True. I haven't been fortunate enough to part with the memories from those painful years." He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"My apologies." She shrugged. "I've definitely toned that down in recent years, if you must know. I understand how annoying I can be with those endless questions of mine. My boss has made it painfully clear with colorful language for multiple times already. Speaking of our history though, I must tell you that I was actually holding it back quite a bit with you back at school. If you were as approachable then as you are now, I would have come to visit your office a lot more often. I have always been impressed by your knowledge. Can you imagine how much more I could learn from you by coming to visit you after class?" She winkled her nose and sent the wizard a bright smile.

"I would hate to imagine the consequences." Snape scowled.

The witch giggled in response.

The wizard let out a deep sigh and said gravely, "In all seriousness, Miss Granger, don't you think you should be at a different place?"

Hermione gasped and looked down at her wrist watch. "Oh I totally forgot the time! It's half past three already! Sorry that I took up so much of your time. Yes, you are absolutely right! I'd better go back and see what my boss has waiting for me." She got up from the couch and stopped in front of his desk. "And by the way, please call me Hermione. That would make me feel better by calling you by your given name." she smiled warmly at the wizard, "I don't know how you do it, Severus, but knowing I have you to help me with my issues alone has probably cured half my illness, or condition, or whatever you want to call it."

Her appreciation was responded by his deep dark eyes staring intensely back at her.

"Have a good day, Severus." She nodded politely and began to make her way to the fireplace.

"It's holy basil and yacon root." He suddenly called out from behind.

"I'm sorry, what?" She was taken by surprise.

"I said holy basil and yacon root." He repeated plainly. "Half and half ratio, bring to a boil, simmer for twenty minutes at sun rise and twenty minutes at mid-night, repeat for three days. You can give it a try yourself. Also, pay attention to the smallest detail to avoid further mistakes. Good day, Miss Granger."

She smiled brightly at him as she stepped into the green flames. _Pay attention to detail?_ She thought to herself. _Is he warning me of something that's about to happen? Since when had Snape turned into Trelawney?_

* * *

Hermione paid attention to the smallest detail for the entire month following her second appointment with Snape, but nothing drastic seemed to be happening. _He can't be always right, I suppose._ She thought to herself as she stepped through the floo connecting to his office.

Snape was once again absent from his office. But Hermione wasn't the least concerned - after all, even his secretary had commented that he had a habit of losing track of time. The young witch had learned from her mistake and decided if she settled down on his couch she would likely to fall asleep again. Pacing around his office, Hermione's attention was quickly drawn to a couple of books laid open on his desk and a long role of parchment containing detail notes concerning exotic plants from the Himalayan mountain range.

"It's you again." His cool voice coming from behind almost made her jump.

"Oh I'm sorry," Hermione hastily put down the notes that she was reading and moved away from his desk quickly. "What did you say? I didn't even hear you come in. This is fascinating!" She pointed at the books, struggling to peel her eyes away from his notes. "I have never heard of all the magical qualities of the yartsa gunbu. Are you going to include this as an ingredient to an existing potion or are you developing a new one? I did try your holy basil and yacon root recipe. Works like a charm! It looks like yartsa gunbu may have complementary qualities to holy basil. I saw your notes here making reference to plants with Indian heritage. Are you considering creating something with those two ingredients?"

"Questions after questions." He walked around her with his hands behind his back. "I see little has changed since our last meeting."

"My apologies." She chuckled softly and reluctantly moved away from the desk. "You have to understand that there is nothing as remotely interesting as this at my work. These must be very rare books, I don't recall reading anything like this at the Ministry library. Well but then again, the Ministry is really not known for its research, is it?" She shook her head and sighed. "I once suggested that I can perform some research for the department on the subject of the history between centaurs and werewolves but was immediately turned down. I was proposing to do that on my own time! And it would have helped making our policy more relevant to those magical creatures. It still upsets me to think that no one was interested in hearing my ideas."

"This is the third time that you show up in my office complaining about your work." Snape settled down behind his desk. "How you dislike your job is clear as day. What is truly baffling me is that why you had chosen to work for the Ministry. And after all these years, why are you still there?"

"Because..." Hermione stumbled on her reply. It wasn't because she didn't have the answer. But somehow it felt as if there was an invisible barrier preventing her from pouring those reasons out.

"Well?" Snape arched a brow and prompted.

The young witch took a deep breath. _I guess going through therapy is not supposed to be easy._ She thought to herself and sighed. "The reason why I chose to work for the Ministry and why I am still there is because I believe this is the right thing to do."

"Right thing to do?" The wizard frowned. "Are you telling me wasting your talent in the bowel of the Ministry is the right thing to do? Who told you that?"

"Well..." Hermione blushed. Did he just call her talented? "Well, no one actually said that I should work there, but they did imply." She drew a deep breath to calm her racing heart. "Arthur advised me to be patient and consider my current position as a way to pay my dues. He did share with me his early days at the Ministry, which sounded quite familiar comparing to my current job. Minerva did mention something about it was a pity that the war had disrupted all of the higher education programs in the country. But she also told me that when she was my age, she spent years working on a not very glamorous job at the Ministry. And then there is my boss, also his boss. They both told me that I'm still young and need to accumulate more experience."

"What a bunch of bullock!" Snape snarled. "Did you ask Arthur Weasley how many mouths were waiting for him at home when he first started working at the Ministry? Did you ask Minerva why she has the habit of finding all the excuses she can to avoid visiting the Ministry offices? You really should demand her to share with you her true sentiment about being an under-appreciated paper pusher working for the Ministry. And your boss, and his boss for that matter," he sighed, "of course that's what they will tell you. How old would you say they are?"

"Hmmm," Hermione frowned, "middle-aged? Maybe in their fifties? Sixties? I'm not sure."

"In other words they have at least another half a century to get a steady paycheck from the Ministry doing the bare minimum of work. These are wizards we are talking about. Don't expect any early retirement from that lot. Do you foresee any promotion opportunities for them?" Snape leaned back into his chair.

"Not particularly." Hermione thought hard. "But it seems like they are quite comfortable with their routine. Both of them have had their positions for more than fifteen years."

"What happens to the smartest witch of her age?" Snape crossed his arms before his chest. "Is that still not clear enough to you? You have no future at your current job. Your superiors will not recommend a promotion to have you rise above them and make a bundle of changes that will make their lives miserable."

The wizard's comment brought silence to the room. After studying her hands on her lap on a long time, the young witch looked up and asked, "So which department would you recommend that I transfer to?"

"None of them." He huffed as he leaned forward. "You should not be working at the Ministry. How old are you? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?"

"Twenty-seven, actually." She didn't know why her cheeks felt a little warm. "And if we count the time that I added to my age by using the time turner, I'm more like twenty-eight."

"You've been wasting your time, Miss Granger." Snape looked at the witch intensely. "McGonagall was right about our higher education programs being disrupted during the war. But that's only within the wizarding world. Why haven't you considered muggle universities and research institutes?"

Hermione glared at the wizard before her in surprise. She had not been expecting such a recommendation. "A _muggle_ university?" She gasped, "I'm surprised you would even suggest..."

"Why?" His eyes narrowed. "Please don't tell me because of my history you still believe I discriminate against muggles and their education system."

"Oh no, not at all." She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "I would never think of you like that, especially knowing the truth about your past."

"Then why are you so surprised?" He tilted his head. "Education is education, no matter which form it takes. A brilliant mind cannot be wasted doing mundane tasks. You won't learn anything new pushing parchment at the Ministry."

"That's kind of what my dad was saying years ago, too." she murmured. "But I'm afraid we are not on talking terms anymore."

"Finally a reasonable voice and you refuse to listen." He arched a brow. "Is this when you will start telling me about your Oedipus complex?"

She frowned at his words and looked back down, purposely ignored the sarcasm in his tone. "It's complicated, Severus." She paused for a long moment before beginning her explanation. "I did study on my own the years following my NEWTs, and I even studied for the muggle's BioMedical Admissions Test as my dad had suggested. The truth is that I did alright on my BMAT. Because of that my dad thought I should either go to med school or apply for a post-graduate research program. That's the problem though, because both options would have been in the muggle world. I am a witch, I don't belong to their world. That's that part that my dad cannot comprehend. He couldn't understand my hesitation to re-enter the muggle world."

"Your hesitation is understandable." He commended coolly. "However, being a muggle-born, I doubt you will have much trouble getting used to the customs in both worlds."

"But that's not the only problem." She sighed, "You might think, based on my behavior from Hogwarts, that I don't care about what others think. Yes, I was the bookworm. Yes, I stood by Harry and Ron's side when they were the underdogs. In reality however, I care very much about how others think about me. I worked hard at school because I knew from the beginning that the more I'd learn, the better I'd fit in. I want to be accepted, Severus. And I doubt that would happen if I go to some muggle university and get a college degree."

"I didn't say you can't come back." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "You can always apply the research skills you can learn from the muggles in the wizarding world. Although they don't provide their own training program, St. Mungo's would never turn down a skilled researcher."

"Perhaps." She hesitated. "But that won't happen until years in the future, after I finish whatever training I can find in the muggle world. I don't know how my friends will take it. What if they think I'm too different? I don't want to be different. I want my friends' approval. I just want to be an ordinary witch, ordinary among my peers."

"But you are not." He cut her off, his voice cool and quiet. "You are not as ordinary as those wizards and witches who attended school with you. You cannot compare yourself with those Neville Longbottoms, Ron Weasleys, and Lavender Browns. So what if they don't understand your experience in the muggle world? Why let other people's judgement bother you? If you are standing tall and straight, would you think you are a hunchback if you see your shadow is misshapen?" After a small pause he added, "Trust me. I'm speaking form my own experience. Do what is right for you, not what others think is right for you."

Hermione gaped at the wizard before her. True, she had come to the recognition that Severus Snape was a different person from the intimidating professor she once knew years ago. However, she had never expected to hear such sincere complement and encouragement from him. "I really didn't expect any this to be coming from you." She finally murmured softly.

His looked her intensely for a long time, with something different dancing in his dark eyes. "I am only telling the truth." He frowned. "And besides, I probably would have said anything to get you out of my office at this point."

"Oh," as a natural reflect Hermione looked down at her wrist watch. "My time's up again! Well," She sighed, "I thank you for your recommendation. It means a lot when it comes from you. And I will give it some thoughts." She picked up her hand bag and got up from the couch. "Thank you, Severus." She smiled at the wizard.

He didn't speak for a long moment. "You are welcome," he finally said, "Hermione."

She felt his eyes on her as she made her way to the fireplace. She wished he would call her back and let her know that they could extend their session for a longer conversation. But he didn't. She turned and looked at him one last time when she stepped into the floo, and felt her heart sputter when she saw him still looking at her.

* * *

A month felt like a very long time. Not a single day did she not think about the way he looked at her when she left his office.

It only took three days for Hermione to have her decisions made and turn in her resignation at the Ministry. After that Hermione contacted several biochemistry research institutes run by local muggle universities and because of her BMAT scores from a few years ago, she was offered a position as an assistant researcher at a local research lab by the end of the month.

She couldn't wait to share her good news with Severus; and she blushed furiously when she realized she was counting the days to see him again.

Hermione couldn't help but smiled when she stepped out of the floo in his office. He was right there, sitting in a wing-backed chair next to _her_ couch, reading.

"Hello." She greeted him softly.

He looked up from his book and blinked at her a few times but didn't speak. When she finally got close to him he said in a low voice, "you really are here."

"Of course I am." She chuckled as she sat down on the couch next to him. "I have good news." She smiled brightly at the wizard. "I have decided to follow your advice and take a slight detour with my career. I will start working for a biochemistry research program at a London-based university starting from next month. I think this will give me some experience working with research projects involving biological matters, which may be useful for potion research. After getting my experience there I will contact St. Mungo's and see how I can apply those skills in the wizarding world."

"That's a sensible approach." He nodded his approval.

"And I think your recommendation might have been all I needed to get out of my depression. Even Ron commended yesterday that I looked so much more cheerful now. And Ginny thought I got a new boyfriend."

"Did you?" He asked with a light concern his voice.

"Did I what?" She was taken aback by his sudden question.

"Did you get yourself a new boyfriend?" He glanced up at her and clarified his question.

"No." Hermione let out an uneasy laugh. "I have quite a long list of criteria for my next significant other. In Ginny's words I'm too picky. Apparently it is quite difficult to find a fellow who is loyal, supportive, and intelligent. Someone very much like..." She swallowed the last word in her sentence. There was suddenly something in the air that made her feel nervous. "What are you reading? Another book on Himalayan plants?" She decided to change the subject.

"I'm moving further east. This is actually a book on ginseng from Japan and Korea." He answered softly.

"That sounds interesting." She took a peek at the cover of the old volume, but couldn't help her glace from sliding to the long pale fingers holding the book.

"I was considering creating a line of potions with heavy eastern influence." He began again, "from my recent research I believe the traditional potion ingredients have been omitting the herbs from the Far East."

"That sounds like a great research topic." She gasped. "I wish I could work with you on that. And maybe I still can? I don't have to go to work for another month, you know."

He responded with a frown. She felt her cheeks starting to burn.

"Will you really..." He paused without finishing the sentence and swallowed.

She felt a need to take a deep breath as she watched his Adam's apple jump slightly.

"I didn't think you would be interested." He said without looking at her. "I am not the best research partner."

"I doubt that's the case." She countered softly, feeling an invisible force pulling her towards the wizard.

"You have many other better options to spend your month before your new job." He cast a downward glance and stared at the book in his hand.

"I think working with you on a research project ranks rather high on my list of options." She tilted her head, trying to search for his eyes.

She bit her lips when her eyes met his. There was that emotion that she had noticed in her previous visit, but much stronger. She could feel his desire. The vulnerability she found in his dark eyes made her heart race. It felt only natural for her to slowly get down onto the floor and moved closer to him. He didn't move. As if being pulled by magic, the witch reached forward and placed a kiss on his lips. She heard him let out a soft sigh as she pulled away.

"This is a mistake." He whispered. "You may regret this someday."

His words set off a string of siren in Hermione's head. "Oh my god! I just kissed my therapist! I'm so sorry! I crossed the line, didn't I?" She jumped away from him, covered her mouth with a hand.

"No, that's not what I meant." He shook his head quickly. "I'm not..."

"I know! It's wrong!" She cried. "I didn't mean to compromise your integrity. Oh my god, you have such a reputation among your patients and I almost ruin it!" She grabbed her handbag from the couch and began to run for the fireplace.

"No," he called from behind. "You misunderstood."

"Yes I know!" She didn't want to hear another word. "I misunderstood your treatment method." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry." She sobbed, "I thought we could be friends. No, I'm sorry; I thought we could be more than friends. But I'm so sorry..." she was no longer sure exactly what she was sorry any more.

She cried all the way into the floo, not giving him a chance to finish his words.

* * *

Hermione was at the Potters for their monthly tea that following weekend. Ginny brought out a plate of freshly baked madeleine like she had always done for her friend, but Hermione didn't touch a single one of the buttery treats. It wasn't until later that night when the young couple put James to bed the wizard finally expressed his concerns to his wife, "Do you really think the therapy is going well with Hermione?"

"It's hard to find out." Ginny frowned. "If there is anything we can do I'd say we should have mum talk to her."

An invitation to the Burrow was delivered to Hermione the very next day. The young witch knew better than to turn down a dinner party hosted by the Weasley matriarch.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**_ The following chapter has not been beta'ed. I take full responsibility for any boo-boos that you may find.

 _ **Disclaimer**_ : Always will be hers.

* * *

 **The Therapist on Cmelak Street**

 **Part III**

A dinner party at the Burrow usually meant two things in recent years: someone was about to make an announcement of a new addition to the Weasley clan either by marriage or by birth, or someone in the family had suffer certain misfortune that lead the Weasley matriarch to believe that motherly attention was the last resort to solve the problem. For this particular gathering, Hermione knew, unfortunately, that she was the target of such attention.

She knew Harry and Ginny's worries had everything to do with Molly's invitation. And she also knew if she didn't attend the party, she would have to deal with endless daily visits from the older witch, prying into her personal life. From every perspective, it would be most sensible to attend the gathering, fool everyone with a cheerful appearance, and save herself from any further embarrassments.

It was exactly what Hermione had expected.

Everyone showed up at the Burrow at 5 o'clock Friday afternoon. The wizards gathered outside in the yard to set up a large tent, a tent large enough to cover an enlarged table that would allow everyone to sit around the table. It was slightly challenging this time - a couple of small children had gotten old enough to run around the adults, distracting them from their tasks.

The women were all in the kitchen, getting the dishes ready under Molly's supervision.

"I think we're about done, dear." Molly finally gave them the signal, "Why don't you all go out there and make sure the boys get their job done. In about twenty minutes or so the turkey should be ready. You can come back then to bring the dishes out. Hermione dear," she called after the young witch, "I can use a hand with the pudding."

Everyone knew the pudding required no assistance; and everyone knew the "assistance" that the older witch desired was no disruption under any circumstances. Ginny gave Hermione a knowing glance before leaving the room, closing the kitchen door behind her.

"Here, Hermione," Molly instructed, "why don't you bring a jug of water over here. I may need some in a bit."

Once Hermione came next to the older witch Molly gave her an encouraging nod. "You seem quite cheerful today, dear. I bet Ginny and Harry were worry over nothing."

"They certainly are." Hermione nodded with a small smile. "As you can tell, I'm perfectly fine."

"Of course you are, dear girl. But you can't blame me for wanting to verify it with my own eyes! Ginny and Harry made it sound quite serious..." Molly shook her head. "On the other hand, I'm also happy that you gave me an excuse to get everyone here for dinner. I know my boys... they think they are all grown-up now and don't need their mum. You wait. They sure will be reminded how much they miss their mum's cooking."

"It's been a while to have your homemade pudding and roast turkey. I can hardly wait." Hermione commented politely.

"Thank you my dear." Molly said cheerfully. "And after dinner I'm going to tell Harry and Ginny to stop worrying their little heads. They should have trusted me - the Therapist on Cmelak Street is the best!"

"The who?" Hermione's hands shook.

"Is that too heavy?" Molly looked over at the glass jug in Hermione's hands. "Come and set it right here. You don't have to carry it this entire time, you know."

"Pardon me," Hermione set down the jug and frowned, "but what did you say about the therapist?"

"Nothing," Molly shrugged, "I only mentioned his name."

"I thought you can't say his name?" Hermione frowned.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Molly glanced up briefly, before nodding to herself, "Right, I haven't told you. We can't call his name, that's true. But his patients have to have a way to refer to him, don't we? He never liked us calling him that." She smiled at her mixing bowl. "But since the Ministry wouldn't let him put a spell on his office address, he can't do anything about it."

"But what did you call him?" Hermione felt her heart race.

"The Therapist on Cmelak Street." Molly smile brightly at her guest, "It's a proper name for him, isn't it? He should have known that was going to happen. That silly man..."

"You said _Cmelak_." Hermione's voice shook, "as in... C-m-e-l-a-k?"

"Of course, I suppose." Molly stopped what she was doing and looked up from the mixing bowl. "Are you quite alright dear? You look a little pale."

"Oh no I'm fine!" Hermione took a step back, but she sounded nothing but fine. "Just tell me, Cmelak is one word, isn't it?" She drew a deep breath. "One word… of course…" Hermione's brows twisted into a tight knot, "like the Hungarian word…"

"Oh I don't know if that is Hungarian or not, Hermione. How does that have anything to do with anything?" Molly tilted her head, utterly confused. "Are we still talking about the therapist? Or did I miss something you said? "

"Oh no!" Hermione slapped her hand over her forehead. "What have I done?!"

"What HAVE you done?" Molly rushed over to the young witch's side. "You are scaring me, Hermione. Are you quite all right? Do you want me to get Ginny? Or Harry?"

"No no no..." Hermione quickly pushed Molly's hand away from her arm. "I'm perfectly fine. See?" She flashed the older witch a bright smile. "I just remembered something... I actually have an... er... an appointment... with my… er… parents. Right! It's... er... my mum... er my mum's cousin... er.. the one from Hungary. You see, it's her birthday and we are supposed to celebrate today." She quickly ran to the drawing room and grabbed her coat and her hand bag. "I'm so very sorry Molly. Could you save some turkey and pudding for me? I will stop by later this week."

"Certainly dear." Molly was right at her heels. "I will send you a package in the morning if you like. But I don't understand. Why all of a sudden...? Why don't you just pop in to visit your family? Why would you have an appointment with your mum and dad?"

"Oh they are dentists, remember?" Hermione answered absentmindedly as she leaned over and gave Molly a quick kiss on her cheek. "I will visit later. Promise!" And before Molly could come up with her next question, the young witch ran through the yard and with a soft pop, she disappeared beyond the garden gate.

"Sweet Merlin." Molly sighed, "Making an appointment with your parents? The muggles truly live strange lives."

* * *

Hermione didn't recognize the building in front of her in the dusk. After all, she had always used the floo network to get to 175C Melak Street. She couldn't help but pacing back and forth along the sidewalk. How should she face Severus? What should she say? Where would she start to explain that she had made a fool out of herself, but her feelings for him were absolutely real?

Just as her anxiety was about to get the better of her, the front door suddenly opened. Hermione jumped and quickly turned around. An older witch in her sixties came into view - it was Mrs. Alexandrov.

"Oh dear." Mrs. Alexandrov was startled by the young witch before her. "I'm so sorry. I didn't expect to see anyone at this hour outside our office. May I help... oh, it's Hermione, isn't it?" Warmth suddenly filled the old witch's voice. "It's wonderful to see you! Come on in!"

It would be beyond awkward to explain to the older witch what she was doing outside the building at such a late hour. So Hermione summoned her Gryffindor courage and followed Mrs. Alexandrov into the office building that appeared to be a remodeled old house. For the first time in that evening Hermione began to wonder if it was, after all, a good idea to come here without a proper plan.

On the other hand, Mrs. Alexandrov seemed to be full of suggestions.

"I'm so glad you finally came!" the older witch didn't seem to notice the surprise in Hermione's eyes. "I don't know what had happened between you two. But I'm sure Severus has been kicking himself for whatever he had said to upset you last time when you were here."

"No..." Hermione frowned, not sure what she should say.

"I know whatever between you two is not my business," Mrs. Alexandrov gave Hermione's arm a gentle squeeze. "But I've been counting on Severus to purchase my potions lab by my next birthday. I have grandchildren waiting for me in the States! The last thing I want is for that brilliant man to change his mind. But if he goes on like this I would venture to say that he would have no interest in negotiating the buyout agreement with me next month. You don't know how difficult it is to come back to the UK after spending your entire life in the States, and having to find a capable candidate to take over this family business left with me by my late uncle. This business is perfect for Severus, but is a terrible burden for me. I don't want to delay my trip back to the States, just as much as I don't want to watch this young man throwing away his future."

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione's heart sank to her stomach. "What did he do?"

"It's what he's not doing that concerns me." Mrs. Alexandrov shook her head disapprovingly. "He has been hiding in the library all day long since your visit last week. He told me he needs time for his research. But he can't fool me. Proper research involves reading and experimenting, like he has always done in the past five years since he started working for me. But he hasn't been to the lab one single time since you left his office in tears. Yes, I'm sorry. I overheard your cry and he had told me that you were upset. But don't worry; he has my word that no one would know about that." The older witch sighed, "To tell you the truth, I am not upset about him not being productive, I'm worried that he's bottling things up again, like he used to do when I first met him. From what I gathered he had quite a traumatic experience from the war. He never wanted to talk about it. But I can tell the signs, and I have my way of getting some information. It took me months to get him to look at this job as something more than just a paycheck, and even longer for him to invest in life again. From what I saw in the past couple of weeks however, I'm afraid all my efforts might have been wasted. But now," she smiled at Hermione, "I can see the hope again. You will make everything better when you clear things up with him."

"How do you know this has anything to do with me?" Hermione was not convinced.

"Who else would it be?" the older witch chuckled. "You know how he is. He has such high standards for friends, let alone lady friends. He told me about your history together at Hogwarts. Not everything of course. That man sure is fond of his secrecy. But you've known each other for a long time, haven't you? " Mrs. Alexandrov's smile widened, "There is always this different sparks in his eyes every time when he talks about you, about how extraordinarily capable you are. Yes he only said capable, but I can read between the lines and translate that into amazing, fantastic and maybe simply brilliant. And there are other little things, too, like the way he looked into the distance when he told me about you. He might have been trying to hide it from me. But I've worked with people my entire life - I was an executive secretary back the in the States. It is crystal clear to me that he desires you. You have no idea how relieved I was to see you keep coming back to him." The older witch put her hands over Hermione's shoulders, "I have always hoped the person taking over my family business will be a happy man. For a while I had thought it would be doubtful. But now... things can certainly improve. Come, talk it through with him. Whatever you two were fighting about, a little conversation would certainly make things better."

"Wait," Hermione suddenly began to panic. "I don't know... Maybe another time? It's quite late now. And I just remember it's Friday night. Silly me... He can't still be here at this hour."

"Oh yes, I know he is here." The older witch said assertively, "I heard him in the library before I left my office. And isn't that why you are here tonight? To see him? To talk to him? Or perhaps plan you weekend together? The library is just this way..."

Mrs. Alexandrov gave Hermione no option but to follow her up the stairs. They stopped before a heavy set of mahogany doors. The older witch knocked on the door a couple of times and called, "Severus, are you in there?"

"Yes, I am." A deep smooth voice answered from the other side of the door.

The older witch winked at Hermione with a smile and called back towards the doors, "Everyone else has gone home. I'll lock the door behind me. And by the way, your lady friend is here. Don't keep her waiting."

Hermione's face turned bright red. She was so anxious about the wizard's response, she didn't even notice how quickly Mrs. Alexandrov walked back downstairs and locked the front door.

It was absolute silence inside the library. After a long pause, the sound of footsteps began to slowly approach the doors. Her heartbeat thumping in her head was deafening, so loud that made she completely miss the hesitancy in the footsteps.

Hermione couldn't help let out a gasp when the doors finally open before her. And there he was, the wizard that she had been dreaming about for months.

Severus looked just the same as she always remembered: black robes, black hair, and black eyes. Except that on this particular day, the wizard seemed tired, as if he hadn't slept properly for days.

"Sev... er, sir," Hermione stuttered, "I'm..."

"No." He raised a hand and stopped her before she could properly formulate her greeting. "No, Hermione, not a word. After proving the disastrous result of having you do all the talking, I will have my turn with the words tonight."

"O...kay." Hermione swallowed hard. This would be when she received the well-deserved humiliation, she thought.

"First of all, I wish to apologize." The wizard began, "I should have stopped you the first time when you showed up in my office. I am not the therapist that you intended to visit." He paused for a moment, as if waiting for the young witch to scream at the information. But Hermione remained quiet. "I realize you may be in shock. It is indeed very much inappropriate of me. I took advantage of your vulnerable state and misled you. For that, I apologize."

"No, you don't have to apologize. I..." An apology was the last thing Hermione had expected.

"Let me finish." His tone gave no room for negotiation, but not as stern as she had remembered him lecturing his students. "You must understand that I was too surprised to see you when you first barged into my office. And when I realized you were in need of help from a therapist, I was concerned about your mental state. I had no bearing as to how severe your condition was and how fragile you mind had become. It was indeed a great relief to soon realize your so-called depression was not nearly as bad as you had described. And I apologize again for not clearing things up during your second and third visits. The truth is," The wizard lower his head and let out a sigh, "I had become quite amused by your visits, and enjoyed our conversation very much."

"Me too..." Hermione smiled uneasily.

"I'm not finish yet." The wizard looked up and gave the young witch a stern look. "No, there is no way you would enjoy... being with me like you did should you have the knowledge that I was not the person who you thought I was. I take full responsibility for everything that has transpired in the past few weeks. You don't need to worry about me saying a single word about your visits. I had also spoken with Mrs. Alexandrov already and made her promise not to mention any of our encounters to others. Whatever that had troubled you will remain secrets with me. But before we conclude this meeting, before you run out the door and spend the rest of your life blaming me for misleading you, I want you to know that everything that I've conveyed, about you, about your abilities, and," he paused, as if trying to find the right words, "my feelings, were only the truth. I never lied to you about any of that."

When the last word left his lips the room became absolutely quiet.

"Are you done yet?" Hermione arched a brow when she finally determined it was safe to ask the question.

"It would also be understandable if you have the urge to slap me over the face before you leave." The wizard murmured bitterly. "Beware however, this would be the only time that I would allow such aggression."

Hermione lowered her head and let out a chuckle. When she looked back up she saw the questions sparkling in the wizard's eyes.

"You have just proven that it is equally disastrous to allow you to do all the talking, Severus Snape." The young witch took a small step ahead, resting her hands on the wizard's arms. "Have you considered the possibility that I appreciate all you've said to me over the past few months and I in fact did enjoy being with you the entire time. I was only relieved to find that you are not my therapist?"

"Relieved?" He arched a brow, "care to elaborate?"

"For starters, it would be inappropriate to kiss one's therapist." Hermione kept her face emotionless as she began.

"That would be correct." He agreed.

She reached up and placed a small kiss on his lips. He didn't move, but his eyes never left hers as she moved away.

"I was also relieved to know that I didn't once again fall for the wrong man." The corners of her lips corked up to a small smile.

"That remains to be seen, Miss Granger." His voice was barely a whisper.

"Would you show me?" she took another step closer to him, closing the gap between them.

"Would you let me?" he reached for her waist and pulled her into his arms.

She closed her eyes and gave in to his kiss. The last coherent thought she had was wondering how long they would have to walk to get to his office, and to his large leather couch.

* * *

"You really thought I was going to slap you?" She mused in his arms as she replayed their conversation from earlier that night.

"I had no idea." he admitted, before pulling her closer. "You are, after all, a bloody Gryffindor."

"Just to set the records straight, I was never angry with you." She sighed as she rested her head on his chest. "I was rather upset with myself. I was the one who made a fool out of me."

"That was quite a scene, I have to admit." He laughed quietly. "You were indeed quite convinced that I was the therapist who could fix your head."

"I was quite desperate." She chuckled. After a short pause, she looked up at him and asked, "so what is going to happen now?"

"I don't know." He looked back at her with tenderness in his eyes. "All I know is that I won't be giving you pretend therapy any more, not that you need it. You will start your new job in a month. Until then maybe we can work on a couple of the research projects together."

"And you will work with Mrs. Alexandrov on purchasing her business." She reminded him.

"She told you about that, too?" He drew in a deep breath. "She must be concerned that her buyer has a change of heart. Sometimes I think she can be just as meddling as Dumbledore."

"She only meant well. But what about us?" She laced her fingers with his.

"I don't have an answer to that." He placed a small kiss on her finger tips. "But I think we might have a chance with something that I had never dared to imagine. I intend to give it a try."

"So do I." She gave him a bright smile. "I have a good feeling about it."

"Do you now?" He gave her a skeptical look. "There is one condition."

"What might that be?" She frowned.

"You must promise that you won't be doing all the talking." He kept a straight face; but smile was dancing in the corner of his eyes.

"As long as you promise the same." She smiled before her lips were once again captured by his.

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FIN

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you won't be disappointed for us stopping here. I don't see it likely for their relationship to progress too fast. How they can keep each other stick to their promises of not monopolizing the conversation? Well, that will have to be another story. :)_


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